


See the Stars From Where You Are

by Hecate



Category: Zathura: A Space Adventure (2005)
Genre: Complicated Relationships, F/M, Fucked Up, Implied/Referenced Incest, Sibling Incest, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 13:58:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22972795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hecate/pseuds/Hecate
Summary: "I'm not him," Walter says, and she wonders how much of her he understands.
Relationships: Lisa/Walter
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	See the Stars From Where You Are

"I'm going to be an astronaut," Walter says a month after the game ended. "I'm going to see the stars."

"Yeah," Danny laughs. "Again."

Lisa tries to smile, and she doesn't tell them that those stars weren't real. Doesn't tell them that some days she thinks they were.

~*~

They don't talk about the game, not truly, but the memories of it are with them every day. In harmless comments, in looks they throw each other, in the boys' hopes for a future among the stars. In Lisa's nights.

She dreams a lot, these days.

When she wakes up, she feels safe until she realizes that the dream is over, that she's home. There are no stars around her and no one to come for her. And she doesn't need to be rescued anymore. The boys have nightmares of monsters and robots, of a loss they can't put into words.

She has something different.

~*~

"Do you ever wonder who made the game?" she asks Walter months later.

He shrugs. "I thought we weren't supposed to talk about this?"

She glares at him and stays silent.

~*~

The boys improve at school, their future suddenly solid and worth fighting for.

"Astronauts need to be good at math," Danny tells their father and gets a smile for it.

"They surely do."

"We will do this, Dad," Walter says.

"I don't doubt it," he replies. When he looks at Lisa, he's still smiling. "And your future plans?"

She shrugs. Answers, "Don't have any," and doesn't care about disappointing him.

~*~

It's been a year and she's dreaming of her brother's eyes.

~*~

She's hooking up with boys now, and it's not an expression anymore. She's kissing them, touching them, and they're all too greedy and too shy, their hands clumsy and awkward on her body.

It's not good enough.

She gets a fake ID then, goes to clubs. Smiles at men with blue eyes, smiles and pushes up against them. Some reject her. Other don't.

It's still not enough.

~*~

She started drinking 13 months after the game ended, shortly after she realized that Walter is all she has now. All that is left of the man who promised to save her. But the taste of alcohol only covers so much and she needs more.

A man offers her a drag of his cigarette after he’s fucked her, and she knows what it is before she nods. It helps for a while. But not for long. The other drugs come later.

~*~

Her friends are dating boys of their age, they're crushing on teachers and actors and singers. She does neither, she doesn't care to.

They ask her about it; Lisa shrugs it off.

"Sex is enough," she says, and doesn't tell them that she's in love. It's a silly thing to say about a man she only met once.

And after all, she isn't.

You can't love someone who doesn't exist.

~*~

Her grades decline and her father is looking at her with disappointment in his eyes.

"The boys are doing so well," he says.

She snorts. "And I'm not."

"Literally," she adds after he left her room. And laughs.

~*~

"Dance with me," she says, demands.

The ground is shaking beneath her feet, twirling, as if she's already dancing, as if somebody is swaying with her.

"You're drunk," Walter answers, stepping away from her.

She reaches out for him, wraps her fingers around his arms to pull him close. He is the only thing that remains solid around her.

"So what?" she says.

He shakes her off, frowning.

"Come on," she says. "Just one dance."

He shakes his head, no, and walks away, his eyes still trained on her. She thinks of the stars and doesn't follow.

~*~

She sets the couch on fire. It shouldn't matter. After all, it burned down before. But somehow, she seems to be the only one that understands that.

Her parents put her into rehab, the only thing they’ve ever agreed on since they divorced. It's a fucking joke, really. And it's on her.

~*~

"Why the drugs?" her therapist asks her.

Lisa shrugs.

"Because of a guy," she answers. Because he always wants answers.

"What happened to him?"

"He died."

It's not even a lie. It's more complicated than that.

~*~

The first time her family visits, Walter isn't with them.

~*~

"What do you want to do once you can leave here?" her therapist asks her.

She shrugs. "No idea."

"You have no plans?"

She doesn't tell him that she didn't have plans before she ended up here, that she was just a teenager and all she thought about was boys and parties and how much she hated her math teacher.

She knows he would understand that part. He simply can't understand what happened between then and now. And she doesn't have the words to explain it all. At least no way to tell the story without ending up in this place forever.

Sometimes she thinks she wouldn't mind all that much.

~*~

Walter visits her along with the rest of her family. She does her best to ignore him. It's the only chance she's got to make sure he returns.

~*~

"I want you to think of something you could do in your future. Nothing binding, just an idea."

She frowns at her therapist. "What good would that do?"

"Helping you to relearn thinking about your life, your future. This isn't all there is to you, this isn't where you end."

She shrugs. "You sure about that?"

"Yes."

She almost tells him that she wants to be an astronaut once she's all grown up. She doesn't. He's surprisingly good at knowing when she lies.

~*~

"I'm not him," Walter says, and she wonders how much of her he understands.

Maybe more than she does.

She shrugs. "But you are."

Before they leave, she hugs him. He goes rigid under her touch.

Walter doesn't look back when he walks out of the visitor area. And she knows she has to get out of this place before he never looks at her again.

~*~

She pretends to be fine. Her therapist sees right through her and she hates him for the first time.

"Why are you bothering with this? You never did before."

"I want to go home," she answers.

He smiles. "I can work with that."

She tries to smile for him.

~*~

They let her go three months later. Her father comes to get her, lets her stand with him as he talks to her therapist.

"She's not okay," the therapist says to him, "but it's a beginning. And it's what she wants. She didn't want anything for far too long."

Her dad raises an eyebrow at him, throws a look at her.

The doctor laughs. "Oh, she knows about this. We're honest with each other."

He's wrong about everything, of course, but it's not something she would ever correct him on.

~*~

Her room hasn't changed since she left it behind. Everything else has.

~*~

Dinner is awkward, filled with too much silence and too many fake smiles. She endures it, eats what her father has made. His cooking skills haven't improved while she was away.

Walter hasn't said a word to her after greeting her at the door. Danny keeps on talking about school after they finish eating. She pretends to be interested.

Walter remains silent.

~*~

She pretends to be over him, cuts the edges from her smile and forces herself to stop watching his every step. She knows she won't find what she's looking for anyway, not like this, not when Walter doesn't want to be the one to save her. But she doesn't let go. She doesn't want to.

She wears short skirts and tight tops without bras these days, wears blood-red lipstick. She smiles and she dances through the house. Her father frowns at her but she shrugs it off.

"I'm a teenager, Dad," she says. "And I couldn't do this in rehab. I'm just catching up."

He doesn't stop frowning. And she can't go back into therapy. "I'm not drinking. I don't do drugs. Hell, I don't go out. I just do this."

She smiles. He finally nods. And she dances away.

She finds the dresses she used to wear in bars in a box in the attic. Slinky and short, black and red. She carries them down with her, washes them in the bathtub. Wears one of them during dinner. Her father raises an eyebrow at her once more. Danny giggles. She simply shrugs and smiles.

It's easy to keep doing it, to dress as if she's ready to conquer every dancefloor and every bedroom. She still stays at home, still doesn't drink. Just wears her dresses and her make-up, wears a smile that never fades away.

Sometimes she catches Walter watching her.

~*~

"Mom is moving to the other side of the country," Walter says. "I'm going with her."

'You can't,' he doesn't add. She hears it anyway.

~*~

She thinks of ways to keep him from leaving and can't think of any. Starts to think she's doing it all wrong anyway. He's just her little brother, after all, and he's not who he's supposed to be.

She puts away her dresses then, asks her father to go shopping with her. Buys sneakers and jeans, pullovers and thick jackets.

"I need practical clothes," she tells her dad when he asks. "School is starting soon."

He smiles then, a real smile, and doesn't say that none of the clothes are the style she used to wear before things changed. And she doesn't tell him that she doesn't intend to go back to school. Maybe never again.

She knows what she needs to do.

~*~

She doesn't ask her brothers for the game. She knows they would never hand it over. But she's Danny's older sister and she knows where he hides his secrets and all the things he can't let go. She knows because she's just like him when it comes to this.

So she finds the game and she smiles at her family during dinner, thinking that the room looks different now that the game is lying in her underwear drawer. She kisses her father goodnight after they eat, kisses him goodbye, but he doesn't know that yet. Tousles Danny's hair, smiles at Walter.

He doesn't meet her eyes.

She waits until the house calms down, until everybody but her is asleep. Then she pulls the game out of its hiding place, kneels down with it. Opens it and sets everything up, her mind strangely clear and distant from herself. She touches the surface of the game and reminds herself of the pain it brought, the fear, gives herself an out.

But she doesn't need it.

She remembers the astronaut, the way he filled up the spaces around him, remembers the way he looked at her. Walter never looks at her like that that. Walter does his best to ignore her, to push her aside. She's his crazy sister now, the crazy sister who wants to touch him.

She takes a deep breath. And begins to play.


End file.
